The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey Read Online Free Page A

together,
     urging him on faster and faster. He picked up speed, his knees rubbing raw on the hard floor, his deep moans of pleasure mingling
     with hers adding a cacophony of vocal accompaniment to the Rampal tape bursting out of the Infinity Reference Standards speakers
     that had set him back twenty grand apiece.
    The tingling in his balls hurled him quickly to the brink. He eased off the pace, wanting first to bring her ultimate satisfaction.
     He quickly realized he need not have been concerned, for she was screaming with release and he could feel great gushes of
     her liquids drowning his happy bird. Again he picked up speed, hurrying to his own destination, pleased with himself for achieving
     his two primary goals: first, to capture her magical essence on film, and second, to fuck the hell out of her.
    He was just ready to explode with a magnificent orgasm when an all-too-familiar voice, disturbingly near, cried out, “Dirk,
     you bastard!”
    He flung his head up toward the harsh-toned voice and caught sight of the flushed face of his beautiful sister bending over
     them. In delighted shock, his bird detonated inside Toni and he hollered in delicious agony, “Aghhh, Honey…” As he squirted
     his last feeble drops into Toni, he watched his sister spin on her heel and stride toward the living area. Her anger was as
     apparent as her gleaming, deep red hair.
    It took several excruciating moments for him to extricate himself from Toni’s embarrassed embrace, explaining rapidly as he
     did that the unexpected intruder was merely his older sister. It was evident that Toni did not believe him. With cold, mechanical
     movements she gathered her far-flung clothes and marched into the bathroom. Relieved to hear the shower running, he hastily
     pulled on his Cardin robe of dark blue cashmere and padded toward the gorgeous figure sitting at the far end of the deep-cushioned,
     suede pillow-couch. In the otherwise dim area, a halo of light from the recessed fixtures overhead encircled her with brightness.
    Honey did not look up as he approached, but continued inhaling on the slim, hand-rolled joint. He could smell the sweet, thick
     aroma of sinsemilla.
    “Thanks for coming so quickly,” he said awkwardly, not knowing where to begin.
    She snorted as if amused, and swung her gaze to him. “I could say the same to you, brother. Some emergency. I bust my buns
     to get here as fast as I can—fearing the worst, expecting to be met by tragedy and gloom. And what do I find? The pink ass
     of my horny little brother, frantically waving hello at me. I don’t know whether to be relieved or enraged.”
    “It is an emergency, I swear,” he said, and sank down beside her. “I wouldn’t have wired you if it wasn’t serious, you know
     that.”
    She exhaled a tired lungful of smoke, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized his face. “Well, it certainly can’t be too catastrophic
     if you still have the inclination to get your rocks off.”
    He hung his head, guilty as charged. “I was trying to keep my mind off it. It’s the best way I know how…”
    A bubble of laughter welled out of her, husky and warm, yet with a biting edge. “Dirky, why the hell the secret code? ‘Snatch’?
     That’s only for life-or-death emergencies, you know that.”
    “It
is
life or death—at least I think it is. She begged me, pleaded, more with her eyes than her voice. She didn’t have time to
     say anything but, ‘Help me, please… help me.’”
    “The beauty in your bathroom?”
    “No. The girl in the park.”
    She passed him the joint. “You’re talking to a reporter, not a psychic. Take a good hit and start at the beginning… as slowly
     as possible.”
    He sucked in the sweet smoke, held it, and began speaking through clenched teeth as deliberately as he could. “Last Sunday
     I was in Central Park with my Nikon and the 850 telephoto lens. And this incredibly sweet-faced, super-sensational blonde—no
     more than sixteen,